


Cookies and Milk

by kenjideath



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Multiple Orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8971558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: Dean and Seth share some cookies and milk to get in the holiday spirit. Also, they bone down like crazy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strykelass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strykelass/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to Strykelass! 
> 
> Also I decided to go with an A/B/O model where omegas have a vagina + a small clit-like cock bc WHY NOT, amirite?

In the grand scheme of things, Seth was glad he had access to birth control. The havoc it could play on his hormones was a small price to pay for knowing exactly when his next heat would come and not having to worry that a broken condom would mean either an operation or taking a cool nine months off from wrestling.

But he could do without times like this, when his hormonal balance swung off the deep end and left him with flushed, swollen, leaky tits.

Seth sighed and massaged the underside of his left breast with the heel of his hand. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it had been a while and, like an idiot, Seth had stopped stashing an emergency breast pump in with his gear. His whole chest was hot and flushed, his nipples perked and eager. Seth pressed his mostly empty water bottle under his nipple and tried to coax out some milk, but, as usual, only a few dribbles leaked out.

Seth ground his teeth. Human breasts just weren’t _optimized_ to be drained by fingers. He’d seen some porn where omegas with giant breasts sucked on their own nipples and he’d always rolled his eyes at it, but right now he was wishing he’d kept more on his recovery weight. He’d managed to get through his match without major, gifable disaster – though he was sure Jericho had noticed something – but he had a cool twelve hours of travel ahead of him and he’d be damned if he was doing that shit with breasts that felt like they were about to pop.

The door creaked open and Seth’s heart stopped for a moment. He’d grabbed an empty room to change in, some kind of office with a sofa in it, almost like a psychiatrist’s office in the movies. Seth had been making it a point to change in the locker room again, but he hadn’t really wanted an audience for this.

Standing in the doorway was Dean, half a chocolate chip cookie hanging out of his mouth and a dumb look on his face. There was the sharp _crunch_ of crackling plastic, and Seth forced the hand holding the water bottle to relax before he could destroy it past usefulness.

“Hi,” Seth said. “I’m just – dealing, with a situation, here.” Seth really hoped that Dean wasn’t going to jump him. They hadn’t been enemies proper for a long time and their uneasy truce from Survivor Series had never been called off or anything, but Seth had given up a long time ago on predicting Dean Ambrose.

Very, very slowly, Dean pulled the rest of the cookie into his mouth. Then he stepped forward, closed the door behind him, grabbed the nearest chair, and sat on it backwards. Dean dropped a bag of cookie on the floor and folded his arms on the chair back, resting his chin on his arms and clearly settling in for the show. “’S no problem,” he said. He grabbed another cookie and took a big bite out of it, then said with his mouth full, “Was lookin’ for something to do.”

Typical. At least he wasn’t swinging, Seth guessed. Seth went back to fruitlessly trying to milk himself and resolutely didn’t think about Dean’s hot mouth fastened around his nipple, getting drained dry in some anonymous hotel bed while Dean fucked him to an orgasm so strong his foot cramped up.

It wasn’t any easier to work himself with Dean watching. Seth pawed at his own tits fruitlessly for endless minutes, trying to ignore Dean’s loud munching. Finally, he heard the squeak of Dean shoving his chair away. Seth relaxed a bit, eager for Dean to be gone.

But of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Instead, Dean kicked Seth’s foot, forcing Seth to scramble to steady his water bottle before it could fall to the ground. Then Dean used that moment of imbalance to grab the bottle and pound back the meager amount of breast milk Seth had managed to work out. Seth stared, stunned, as Dean swallowed thoughtfully before tossing the empty bottle to the floor.

“What’ve you been doing over here, Rollins?” Dean asked. He leaned over Seth, making him feel the difference in their heights. “That was barely enough to wet my throat.”

Seth could smell him, masculine and virile, his tank top clinging invitingly to his hard muscles. Seth had been wet off and on all day, another affect of his hormones being out of whack, but he was suddenly aware that the loose sweatpants he was wearing were soaked through.

Before his higher brain function could kick on, Seth’s hands were moving, grabbing Dean by the wrists and tugging him forward. Dean came easily, letting Seth guide him forward to palm his breasts. Seth let out a hiss as soon as Dean made contact; Dean’s hands were so wide, callused and gentle, the perfect texture to make every nerve in his breast tingle with pleasure. Dean dragged his thumb over Seth’s nipple and the shock of pleasure drove a whimper out of him.

Dean quirked a smile at him. He seemed – surprisingly calm, none of the anger and hatred that Seth had grown used to haunting his expression. It gave Seth the confidence he needed to say, “I’ve got more, if you want it.”

Dean did want it. He went to his knees in front of the couch and latched onto Seth left nipple, using his lips and tongue to gently coax the milk out. Seth whited out for a second, the relief and pleasure too intense for him to keep track of his body, and when he checked back in he was arching back against the coach, both hands knotted in Dean’s hair as if there was any chance he might pull away.

It was fucking heavenly – Seth’s breasts were so sensitive, and if Dean’s thumb had been good, his mouth was a revelation. It was so warm and wet and every movement of his tongue sent sparks across Seth’s vision. Seth was dimly aware that he was rutting forward against nothing, feeling painfully empty and excruciatingly conscious of the slick dripping down his thighs, but he didn’t want to push his luck, not when he was awash in pleasure and the slow release of pressure in his chest was like a long, gentle orgasm.

Suddenly, Dean jerked back and Seth wailed at the loss before he could stop himself. One hand flew to his chest, cupping the breast that hadn’t gotten any relief yet, and the other dropped to the front of his soaked-through sweatpants, desperately palming his aching nub. Dean _growled_ , a sound so possessive that Seth clamped down involuntarily, slick squirting out of him.

“Fuck,” Dean panted. He was still feeling up Seth’s tits, his hands wandering as if out of his control, but his eyes were glued to the crotch of Seth’s pants, which were so wet they were clinging to his folds, leaving nothing to the imagination. “Please tell me I can fuck you because otherwise I’m gonna hafta drag myself outta here and go hump a storage crate until somebody fines my ass.”

Seth gasped like the air had been punched out of him. “Yes, are you fucking kidding me,” he said, and the next few minutes were a blur of clothes being torn off and bodies being rearranged. Dean ended up in Seth’s place, leaning back against the couch while Seth straddled his lap. Dean got his mouth back around Seth’s nipple before he even got his dick lined up properly and Seth had to reach down and guide it in himself.

The position was a fucking dream. For a minute, Seth just sat on Dean’s lap, dazed at the feel of being stretched around a thick cock while Dean attacked his tits like a starving man. When Seth started to move, somehow the pleasure multiplied like crazy. The angle dragged Dean’s cockhead right into his back wall, making bright spots of pleasure pulse behind his eyes, and the tight fit of their bodies let Seth grind his swollen nub right into Dean’s body. His little cock was furiously engorged with blood, protruding eagerly out of its hood at the top of his pussy, smearing clear slick over every part of Dean it could reach. Seth rocked into it desperately, grabbing at every scrap of pleasure he could get his hands on. Embarrassingly fast, the tidal wave hit him and he was coming. A scream ripped its way out of his throat while his inner muscles clamped down punishingly tight around Dean’s cock. Seth felt his fingernails sink into Dean’s shoulder while his vision blurred, and Dean’s answering moan sent shivers up his breast that felt like they reverberated throughout every inch of his body.

When Seth came back to himself, his head was pressed into Dean’s neck, letting him breath in Dean’s scent with every panting breath. Dean’s mouth was off his breast, leaving the poor nipple to tingle as the spit on it cooled, but Seth could feel Dean’s strong fingers stoking the back of his neck.

“Christ, that was a strong one,” Dean rumbled. Seth could feel the vibrations of his voice through Dean’s throat and chest, and that was enough to send an aftershock rushing through him. Dean held him tighter, feeling Seth clamp down on his cock again.

“Ready?” Dean asked. His voice sounded absolutely wrecked. Seth nodded and leaned back, getting ready to lift his own weight again, and then Dean’s mouth fastened around his other nipple, and everything was a blur again.

Seth lost count of his orgasms, or more accurately lost his ability to count. All he was conscious of was riding Dean’s cock like a champion, Dean’s hot mouth draining him dry, and perfect, blinding pleasure so strong his legs went numb. Certain sensations stood out to him – the sharp nip of teeth on his nipple, Dean furiously rutting up into him when his strength gave out, the raspy tickle of Dean’s body hair scraping against his own.

At the end, slumping, wrecked, over Dean’s panting form, drained of milk and come and sure his muscles were too weak to get him off again, and he felt Dean reach down and gently stroke his cock until he shuddered in one last, trembling orgasm.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Dean gasped out. Seth grunted in response, then whined as he felt Dean try to ease him up and off his softening dick.

“Nooooo,” Seth whined, grabbing at Dean with fingers that wouldn’t grip properly.

Dean chuckled and ignored Seth long enough to get them both stretched out on the couch. “Je _sus_ ,” Dean said. “You sure you’re not in heat, babe?”

Seth groaned. “Fuckin’ – piece a shit. Hormones,” he managed. “I swear to God if you ditch me right now – ”

Seth didn’t open his eyes but he felt Dean shift them around until he could cradle Seth in his arms. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean groused without heat. “This ain’t my first rodeo. Take a nap an’ then I’ll cart you back to the hotel, I’ll give you all the good smells you can stand.”

It was a relief, even if it didn’t make any sense. “’anks,” Seth mumbled, tucking his face into Dean’s chest. Then, exhaustion and pheromones taking his guard down, he added, “Missed you.”

There was a long moment of silence. On the edge of sleep, Seth shifted and took Dean’s small, pebbled nipple into his mouth. Dean couldn’t give milk but it felt comforting in a strange, hazy way.

“Yeah,” Seth heard Dean say, distantly, as he drifted off to sleep, “me too, asshole.”


End file.
